


you are surrounding all my surroundings

by hazandboo_write



Series: holding on to you [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blindness, Genderfluid, M/M, nothing but fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:37:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazandboo_write/pseuds/hazandboo_write
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry's still blind, louis' still not, they're both still super cute, and it's time for their first date, so.  yeah, that happens.  sequel to twisting the kaleidoscope behind both of my eyes x</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are surrounding all my surroundings

Louis feels ridiculous. It’s been days, days of stupid flirty texting with stupidly perfect Harry, and all he can think about is the fact that he is about to go on a date with a boy.  A perfect looking, kind-hearted, cheeky boy, but.  A boy, still.  A little part of him hopes that maybe _one_ of the girls will turn out to be a lesbian, if only so that Jay can have at least one daughter-in-law.  He supposes that’s probably him being a stupid fucking dolt but, hey.  He likes Harry.  Who’s to say they won’t get married one day?

And with that final thought, he decides to throw himself out the window.  Not literally, but, like.  He’s being really dumb is the thing.  He’s taken girls on dates before, it’s only natural that he takes a boy on a date to see what it’s like.  Not that Harry’s an experiment or anything, _he’s not_ , but.  Honestly, a big part of him is excited.  Except for the fact that it’s been day days of stupid flirty texting with stupidly perfect Harry, and he hasn’t yet figured out what exactly they are to  _do_  on this date.  Movie, no.  Harry can’t see.  Aquarium, no.  Harry can’t see.  Carnival a city over, no.  Harry really just can’t see is the thing.  It’s got to be dinner.

But then Louis wonders just exactly how he is going to choose a restaurant.  He doesn’t want to go somewhere loud that might overwhelm Harry, but he also doesn’t want to go somewhere too quiet, too intimate. So, god damnit, he’s going to have Harry over for dinner at his place, that’s got to be it.  Of course, part of him knows that they can’t just have all their dates in the home, but.  First thing’s first, clean the house.  Lecture the girls.  Ask Jay.  Clean the house again.  That’s a lot of first things, Louis thinks.

Louis knocks the third out pretty quickly, as well as half of the first.  The girls are a bit harder, because all they really want is to drool over Harry and wave fingers in front of his face like dipshits and ask him to play dress-up with them.  Louis thinks these are all bad ideas, so he decides that he must exile them to the living room where the biggest television is, only letting them out to pee or get food.  Perhaps he’s sort of treating them like pet dogs, but.  Their yipping and yapping bare a close resemblance, so.  Justified.

He texts Harry while pulling on a pair of slightly stained jeans, cos, well, Harry can’t see.  However, he put on his best jumper and combs his scraggly hair with his fingers just in case.  He stubs his toe in the doorframe as he’s leaving his bedroom, cries like his sister Daisy for a good four minutes, and then starts hobbling around the house picking random shit up off the floor, washing away the sticky handprints on the walls, using his sisters’ big felt letters to mark each of their bedrooms in case Harry’d like to grope around a bit.  Louis, as is seems, is certainly not against a little groping here and there.  And everywhere, maybe.

Harry graciously accepts the invitation and informs Louis that Niall will be dropping him off at half past six.  Louis supposes that gives him about three hours to fix up the rest of the place.  Instead, he sets chicken on fire and adds enough dressing to a kitchen sink salad to make the leaves soggy.  The milk’s gone sour, the only wine in the house from a box, each and every plate chipped from one too many reckless girls.  In the end, he decides to order not one, not two, but three large pizzas in case Harry’s picky.  And because his mum will be out and insists that Louis _actually take care of them_ and _feed them for once, Jesus, Lou._  When they arrive, he puts the pizzas boxes in the oven and hops around the house once more, picking up a tutu left on the stairs.  It’s appallingly large for a five year old.  He leaves it on Phoebe’s bed with two clothing pins to make the waist smaller. Such a fantastic brother, he is.  He even checks up on the girls twice, just to make sure they’re watching those stupid American Disney Channel sitcoms about big families with age gaps and dogs with blogs.  They are of course, until they’re not.  Louis catches them flipping the channel until they land on a horror movie, and within two seconds Daisy is screaming at the top of her lungs.  Louis clears his throat from the doorway.  Felicite turns around quickly, grabbing the remote from Lottie and manically changing the channel to some food network.  Louis rolls his eyes, giving them a stern warning, and Lottie throws a pillow at his head without even looking up from her phone.  Louis rolls his eyes and goes back to the kitchen.

The clock on the oven reads 18:15, so he dashes upstairs to take a piss and splash some water on his face.  He’s about to go (well, stay, technically) on a date with a painfully adorable boy with a cane and wicked raybans. He can do this. The doorbell rings just as he’s buttoning his jeans, and no matter how he rushes to wash his hands and make a run for the stairs, Daisy’s got him beat.  From the top of the stairs, Louis hears his sister’s squeals, and a deep chuckle from Harry. _Harry_ , fuck.

Louis rushes past Daisy, nearly knocking her hand away from Harry’s own.  His breath catches in his throat as he quickly looks Harry up and down. He’s got on these horribly tight black jeans that make Louis squirm a bit, and a simple ramones tee shirt with a frayed collar.  He looks devine, really.

“Nah, Daise, I’ve actually got my cane right here,” Harry is saying, pulling something out from behind his back.  “Use it all you like, so long as I get it back unharmed and un-enchanted.  It’s not just any old regular magic wand, love, it helps me walk and see, sort of.”  Louis’ heart warms at that, watching as Daisy grabs the walking stick with both hands, spinning around a bit before freezing and looking up at Louis.

“Louis?” she asks, voice unsure. “I want Harry to be able to walk and see, sort of,” she tells Louis in a half-whisper, as if Harry can’t hear her. She offers the thing cane to Louis with big eyes. Louis grabs it and places it back in Harry’s limp hand.  

“Hi,” he says, voice breathy.

Harry straightens, brushing his hair out of his face as his cheeks redden.  “Louis, hi,” he says, voice soft.  

“It’s nice to see you again!” Louis says, a bit too cheerfully, and shit.  The fucking insensitivity has returned.  “Oh,” Louis says.  Harry can’t see.

Harry just laughs softly, holding one hand out.  Louis completely ignores the collective coos from behind him, signaling all the girls have come out of the cave to watch.  He gently threads his fingers through Harry’s, bringing their palms up to kiss the back of Harry’s hand. “Hi,” he repeats.

Harry chokes a bit, grinning wildly.  “Yes, I think we already greeted each other, Lou,” he says, nose wrinkled cutely.

Before Louis does anything more embarrassing, he squeezes Harry’s hand quickly, searching his face.  Gently, he pats Harry’s hip and steps away.  “Think the girls would like to say hi,” he mumbles.  

Harry just smiles, holding both hands out.  “Hello,” he says, shuffling his feet nervously.  “I don’t if I’ve met all of you yet, but I’m Harry.”

Felicite immediately rushes up and runs her hand over Harry’s.  “Hey, Harry. I’m Felicite.” Harry nods politely, and after that he gently hugs each of the girls before Louis is groaning and moaning, “Yeah, yeah, we get it, you’re all in love with the dark mystery that is Harry Styles. Twist?”

“Styles,” Harry says with a laugh.

“Styles,” Louis confirms with a firm nod. “But now it’s time for me to get some Harry time, so.  If you could please report to your bunkers, ladies.”  The girls look very confused, and Louis sighs dramatically.  “Go away,” he says slowly.  This is better comprehended, and they each shuffle away muttering “bye Harry”’s.  

Louis turns back to Harry just as Harry blindly (insensitive but true, Louis thinks) turns towards Louis.  Louis can’t help but beam.

“Hi,” Harry whispers, holding a hand out again.

Louis snorts, grabbing both of Harry’s hands and watching as the stick falls noisily to the ground. “Yes, I think we’ve already greeted each other, Haz,” he says with a smirk.  Harry laughs, tugging Louis closer.

“Fuck that,” he whispers, shuffling even closer.  Slowly, Harry runs his hands up Louis’ chest, placing his arms around Louis’ neck for a simple hug.  Louis tries not to shiver, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist briefly. When Harry pulls back, Louis blushes, blurting out, “You know, you can touch my face to make sure it’s really me.”

There’s a pause, and then Harry’s bent over laughing, groping around for his walking cane.  He picks it up and leans on it with one hand, reaching the other out, running his knuckles along Louis’ cheekbones.  “Uh oh,” he says, and Louis freezes.  “I’m not sure it’s really you, hold on, I gotta check something.”  Without warning (or with some sort of vague warning, actually), Harry runs one thumb across Louis’ lips, pressing gently at the corner of his mouth.  Through his glasses, Louis can just barely see the outline of the crinkles by Harry’s closed eyes.  Louis almost stops breathing altogether.

When Harry pulls away a second time, Louis stumbles back a bit.  “Okay- okay.  We should stop that before I snap and make out with our face.  First, dinner.  I’ve set up something real proper, like a proper gentleman. Boxed pizza and wine, even candles for a centerpiece.  But don’t test me on that, flames are like super hot, H.”  Harry laughs, and Louis takes one of his hands and leads him down the hallway.  “Okay,” he narrates.  “Now we’re at the end of the hall.  On our right, now that we’ve passed the wrap-around staircase, there’s the living room where the girls are watching telly and undoubtedly spilling nail polish on Jay’s best rug.  On your left is the kitchen.  Alright, turn and take three big steps forward- whoa not that big, or you’ll be pulling me along blind.  Shit, sorry-” Harry squeezes Louis’ hand with a little giggle and a happy _shut up, Lou._

“Anyways,” Louis says. “Now we’re in front of the island, go ahead and relish in all it’s chipped marble glory.”  Louis watches as Harry runs his hand along the countertop before offering it back to Louis. “Okay, shuffle to the right a little, three steps forward, two steps back, haha, kidding. Okay, now we’re in the dining room, and basically the candles look lame and I have to get the pizzas out of the oven and I don’t even know if you like pizza but I got three kinds and there’s boxed wine at the end of the table and I rambling.”

“Then shut up, Lou,” Harry repeats, laughing.  Louis swallows.  “But hey, really.  I love pizza and I love tours of homes and I love that I trust you so I’m going to sit down now and wait for you to serve me cos I’m blind and you’re not and I think it’s fair that I take advantage of you on the first date, it’ll say a lot about your character, so go ahead now,” Harry says in one breath, crooked grin plastered on his face.

Louis huffs, “Not funny.  I’m the rambler here, not you, dumbnuts.” Harry snickers, lowering himself cautiously onto a chair, cane on the ground by his feet and hands crossed on the table.  Louis nearly squeals at the cuteness, almost stubbing his toe again as he fumbles around the kitchen.  When he returns, Harry tracing the edge of the plate in front of him, smiling privately like a secret.

Louis lowers himself down across from Harry.  “Cheese, broccoli, or sausage?”

“Broccoli, obviously.” Harry smiles, taking a piece from the box that Louis had directed his hand towards.

“Sour milk, water, or boxed wine?”

“Boxed wine, obviously.”

“Alrighty, then, You’re easy.  And wow, I did not mean it like that.”

Harry shrugs.  “You’re fumbling, Lou.  I’ve never heard some one fumble like you do. Are you nervous?” he teases.

Louis shoves the majority of a slice of pizza in his mouth, gulping it down painfully before answering.  He fills two glasses with wine, placing one in Harry’s grasp.  “Yes,” he says, laughing through his flaming cheeks.   “I mean, it’s not every day you’re sat across a cute boy with curly brown hair and amazing eyes and this obscene cheekiness.  Oh, and it’s not everyday you’re on a _date_ with him.”

This time, Harry blushes, popping a piece of broccoli into his mouth.  “Oh,” he says, laughing a little.  “Wow, okay.”  He sips a bit of wine before he places the glass down on the table and cautiously takes his glasses off.

Like last time, Harry’s eyes are searching wildly for something they’ll never find.  But they’re also still that amazing sea glass colour that makes Louis lose his train of thought. “You’re beautiful,” Louis blurts.

Harry chokes on more wine.  “You know, you are too.  Like really, really lovely.  I can tell by your voice.  And your cheekbones, basically,” Harry responds shyly.

Louis grins between bites of pizza, chest puffing out with a sense of happiness he didn’t know what cause such a reaction.  He is really infatuated, basically.  “Basically, I’m very infatuated with you,” he says, earning an award-winning smile.

After that, the conversation begins to flow naturally.  Louis learns more about Harry’s home life and his school life, too (two best friends, a bit of bullying that makes Louis want to punch someone, teachers that forget he exists, etc).  Louis tells Harry about the first time he ever held the twins.  It was a two-in-one, both arms full of smelly baby.  Louis likes making Harry laugh, and the fact that he sort of bobs his head, nostrils flaring, is extremely endearing.  Louis tells Harry more about Liam and footie and his shit grades, and for every laugh he allows himself a sip of wine.  By the time the conversation has naturally come to an end, they’re both a bit buzzed, and Harry tells Louis he’s never felt better than in this moment.  Louis eyes tear up a bit, but mostly because the wine went down the wrong pipe and he’s sort of choking.  This due to such a comment, but.  Louis pretends Harry’s hold over him isn’t so blatant.

When Louis gets up to clean the dishes, Harry carefully follows him into the kitchen and pulls himself up onto the counter.  He watches, well not watches, but. Yeah.  He waits and talks while Louis scrubs the dishes, and even offers to dry them.  Louis isn’t _that_ much of a gentleman to refuse such a genuine offer, so.  They do that, for a bit.  And it’s mostly pretty fucking wicked, at least for Louis.  They walk hand in hand to the living room, ignoring the boxes still left on the counter (well, not the wine, Louis has the decency to hide it somewhere the girls won’t find it).

“Hi guys,” Louis says from the doorway.  “I’m going to give Harry a tour of the upstairs. Holler if you need anything.”  By the time Louis has lead Harry up the stairs, two little twins ducks have accumulated behind them.  Louis supposes he can ignore them.  Mostly because if he and Harry are alone together for too long, Louis knows things will probably go down and he _really_ wants this to work so he doesn’t want to rush things, basically.  Harry runs his hand along each of the doors, whispering the names through smiles.  They reach Louis’ room one door over from the end of the hall and both of them freeze.  Of course, the girls notice nothing, pushing both boys aside as they open Louis’s door and fling themselves onto the ratty old bean-bag chairs Liam and Stan had gifted him for his fourteenth birthday (they both had had to save their money up for half a year, but they figured two bean-bag chairs would suffice as a birthday and Christmas present as well as a free pass so they could torture Louis all they wanted about whatever they wanted, which they did.  Often.  Good pals, they were.).  

The girls chatter aimlessly while Harry drops Louis’ hand and cautiously makes his way around Louis’ room, turning around frequently in Louis’ direction as if to ask _is this okay?_ Louis nods stupidly before half-whispering _yeah, of course,_ each time.  Even with the girls being noisy as hell, something about Harry being in Louis’ room makes the whole thing a bit more intimate than Louis would have first expected. By the time Harry has made his way to the bed, after running his hand along all the trophies and picture frames on the desk, Louis is already sitting on the edge of the bed.  As if Harry can feel Louis there, he lowers himself down next to him, holding out one unsure hand hesitantly. Louis slips his hand into Harry’s, smiling. He trails one hand down the length of Harry’s torso, watching as the boy shivers beneath his touch.  When the girls’ chatter dies down to a gentle hush, Louis realizes they’re both watching Louis and Harry’s interactions.

Clearing his throat, Louis pats Harry side and pulls away the tiniest bit. Daisy jumps up, tugging Phoebe along with her.  She taps Louis’ knee, and then Harry’s.  “Louis” she says slowly.

Louis frowns.  “I know that voice.  Whatever you want Daisy, the answer is most likely no, so.  Bugger off, really.”

Phoebe giggles.  “We were just wondering if we could borrow Harry is all.”

“Absolutely not,” Louis answers immediately.

Harry cocks his head to one side.  “I think it’s alright, Lou.  I’ll bring my cane, I’m sure it’ll be fine.  They’re lovely,” he says, nodding his head in the girls’ direction.  Louis considers this for a moment before frowning again.  He wants to say no, is what he wants.  But Harry’s smiling this goofy little smile, and Louis nearly collapses in upon himself at the cuteness.

“I mean, yeah, okay.  That’s fine I guess,” Louis says loftily, hoping Harry might changed his mind.  However, Harry just pats Louis’ knee and stands up, holding one hand out.  Both girls reach for him and he laughs.  “Just one,” he says.

“Can I come too?” Louis asks.

“No,” the girls say in unison.  And that’s that, really.  They lead Harry to their small room, and Louis watches them giggle through his open bedroom door.  After about five minutes and lots of giggles wafting down the hall, Louis sighs and picks himself up from off the bed.  He stops by the twins’ room, listening as Harry tells them about a silly story about the time when he meant to grab an apple, but accidentally took a huge bite from the unripe, rough tomato that squeezed juice all over his shirt.  Louis puts his hand over his mouth, smiling.

“Louis.”  It’s just above a whisper, and Louis turns to see Lottie at the top of the stairs.  She nods her head. “Come on,” she says.  “Leave them be, they’ll be down soon enough.  Give it fifteen minutes.”  And so Louis sighs again, a bit more quietly this time.  He raps his knuckles on the door.  “Fifteen minutes,” he calls.  All three call out in unison, “Yeah, yeah,” and despite Louis’ worries, he can’t help but smile, slowly turning away and following Lottie downstairs.

They watch stupid reality telly together, something he would never let the others watch, but Fizz it fast asleep on the couch.  When he hears giggle behind him, and a smacking of a cane running into a wall, Louis turns around to see Harry standing with pink cheeks, all dolled up with a tiara buried in his curls, a tutu around his waist, pink shimmers on his lips.  Louis laughs out loud, eyes tearing up.  But something about the look on Harry’s face sort of makes him freeze.  Louis can’t tell exactly what is going on in Harry’s head, which he supposes in normal, but.  He gets up off the couch and tugs Harry’s arm gently.

“Well,” he announces, “thanks for violating my lovely boy, guys.  But hey, at least he looks cute.  Good work, ladies,” he says to the twins, tugging Harry down the hall and away from ear shot.

“Y’alright?” he asks under his breath.

“Do I look like an idiot?” Harry blurts.

Louis runs his hands up and down Harry’s arms.  “Of course not, Haz.  Like I said before, you look crazy adorable.”  Louis sort of freezes, cos maybe adorable may not be the manliest word.  

Harry’s eyebrows scrunch together, eyes travelling.  “You sure?’ he whispers.

Louis smiles. “I’m sure,” he says, shaking Harry slightly with a small laugh.

Harry pauses, face unsure.  Cheeks gradually reddening, he brush the fringe off his forehead and whispers, “Do you… like it?” And something about the tone in his voice strikes Louis as sort of off.  Almost as if he’s being serious, and not in kinky way, necessarily, but with genuine curiosity and a hint of something else.  Of course, Louis is a bit confuse, basically.

“I-” Louis watches Harry very carefully.  And then he realizes he actually does like Harry like this, all dolled up in pretty.  “It’s pretty fucking hot actually,” he responds boldly.

Harry coughs.  “Really?” he asks, voice shy.

“Harry,” Louis says, only half joking, “is there something you want to tell me?”

Harry grabs Louis’s arm and gently leads them to the staircase.  They lower themselves down onto the second step, thighs pressed together and sweaty palms clasped.  Louis is momentarily impressed that Harry can remember the layout of the house so well, as if he’s been here a dozen times.  But then Harry inhales deeply, eyebrows knit together.  “I guess I sort of do, actually.  Like, before this _thing_ goes any further and all that.”

Louis is still confused.  “Okay, shoot,” he says.

“I, um,” Harry lets go of Louis’ hand, turning his face away slightly.  “So I sort of, like, do this,” he motions to the tiara and skirt, “like, on my own, kind of?”

Louis breaths.  “Okay,” he repeats, voice soft.  He thinks he actually does pretty well at sounding neutral, supportive even.  Because he is, really.  He is supportive, no matter what Harry’s trying to say.

“Yeah, well.  Sometimes I just… dress like a girl kind of?  Like, not to be weird but like.  Cos sometimes I kind of feel like one?  And, well.   _I’m_ okay with that, and my mum and sister are, but like.  Even when I feel that way, I’d never like… show up to school decked out in a skirt or anything.”  Harry’s voice is positively shaking by the end, and Louis prays to any god that will listen that the girls aren’t listening in.  But then Louis takes time to process what Harry’s is saying, and he realises part of him doesn’t really get it but at the same time an even bigger part of him does.

“Okay,” Louis repeats for the third time.  “Yeah, okay.  That’s… that.  Okay, wow.”  
Harry grimaces, putting his head in his hands dejectedly.  “Is that- like gross, or whatever?” he mumbles.

Louis pauses.  “No,” he says after a moment, decision in his voice.  “No,” he says again.  “It’s not.  It’s just… it’s you.  That’s who you are and that’s okay cos you’re an amazingly lovely person and whether or not you feel like a boy or a girl sometimes, you’re still the Harry I want to go on lots of dates with.”

Harry raises his head.  “Lots?” he says, a small smile on his face.

“Lots.”

Harry laughs.  “Oh.  Oh, wow.  So, like, you’re a really amazing person, did you know that?”

Louis smiles.  “And you’re sort of perfect, which makes it pretty clear that it is one hundred percent completely necessary that I do what everyone else on the entire planet would do in this situation.”  
“Wha-”

Louis kisses Harry.  And he means it and he means everything he’s said and it’s so, so lovely to feel Harry lips against his own.

 

After that, Louis insists on seeing Harry once a week at the very least, and even though sometimes he feels like a majorly clingy creep, he also knows that once a week is not enough, so.  It’s not like he’s pushing, really.  It’s completely valid.  In fact, Harry makes sure Louis’ knows that with every kiss he initiates, with every hand grazing across his cheek.  And it’s sort of totally perfect. They go to the movies and the aquarium and the carnival a city over, and it’s perfect.

For their one month ‘anniversary,’ Louis asks Harry out to dinner at his favourite Italian place two blocks over.  They walk hand in hand and chatter like they haven’t seen each other in weeks.  Louis nearly trips and falls into the road, the excitement making him a bit crazy, basically.  Harry catches him swiftly without even turn sideways and Louis makes some stupid comment about _my knight in shining armour, Haz._

When they get to the restaurant there’s a candle on the table, and Harry runs his finger along the edge of the glass holding it.  “That’s sort of really lovely, innit?” he says, grinning. Louis responds by taking Harry’s hand and holding it across the table.    
“You’re lovely,” he says.

Harry, still not used to the constant string of stupidly sappy compliments, blushes furiously.  “Hush,” he mutters, smiling with his head ducked down.  Louis laughs.

They share a big dish of pasta, even pulling a lady and the tramp.  It’s pretty weird, admittedly, but.  It’s also pretty wicked that Louis can do things like that.  It’s over a bowl of vanilla ice cream that Louis asks for Harry’s hand again.  After wiping ice cream of Harry’s adorable nose, obviously.

“Hey Haz?”

“Yes, dearest?” he asks with a smirk.

Louis grins stupidly.  “You know, we’ve never actually had the _talk_ , have you realised?”

Harry suddenly looks a bit shy.  “Um, I guess.”

Louis squeezes his hand.  “So, let’s have it then.”

“Okay,” Harry says slowly, voice unsure.

“Haz,” Louis says, rolling his eyes. “I’m trying to ask you to officially be my boyfriend.  Like, for everyone to know, so long as you want them to.  Like, official business and all that.”

Harry puts down his spoon and drags Louis in for a kiss, careful not to set their clothes on fire.  Harry’s pretty awesome, Louis thinks.

 

The first time Louis meets Niall and Zayn, at least officially, Harry also gets to meet Liam.  It’s pretty fucking cool, at least for Louis, to hold hands with your boyfriend and kiss him whenever you want to, and not care that there are people around.  

“Hey, Louis, get your arse over here and take Liam’s spot, he’s right fucking up mate,” Niall calls from the couch.

Louis turns to Harry, placing his beer in Harry’s hand.  “Duty calls, babe,” he says, giving Harry a swift kiss on the cheek.  

And so Liam and Zayn flirt with each other all night, Harry trying to get a word in edgewise before finally sighing heavily and dropping down into Louis’ lap.  Of course, Niall then surpasses Louis and wins the round, but.  Louis could honestly not even give one shit if he tried, because he has a gorgeous boyfriend who wants to make out with him.  Of course, this also means fumbling towards Zayn’s bedroom.  Blow jobs ensue, obviously.  Ever since Louis and Zayn got a place together (it was weird at first, barely knowing each other, but it meant that neither had to pay full rent, and the five of them could hang out whenever they wanted to. Any excuse to see Harry more often, Louis had decided) things had been pretty smooth.  Except for the fact that sometimes, both blind (oops) with lust, they would accidentally back up into Zayn’s room, rather than Louis’ and, well, that never went over well.  But it was always okay, just like it is now, because they had and they have each other and that's pretty wild.

It’s pretty cool to have people that support you, want the best for you, but also want to fuck around with video games with you. But hey, Harry’s pretty cool, Louis thinks.

 

For their three month anniversary, Harry creates this gorgeously elaborate meals for the two of them.  They talk about what it means to be serious.  It’s the first time they say I Love You to each other, and Louis’ never felt more honest and happy than in that moment.

“Hey, guess what?” Harry says, drying off a plate.  

Louis turns and blows bubbles at Harry, smirking.  “Yes, dearest?” (A new catch phrase of sorts for the two of them).

“I love you.”

"Fuck, H, I love you too."

The dishes are forgotten after that, both stumbling upstairs and crashing into Harry’s bedroom, falling onto the bed.  They kiss and suck and talk for what feels like hours, and kiss and suck some more. They even talk about sex, whenever Harry is ready.  He says he already is, but that's he's scared this won't mean the same thing to Louis.

"Harry."  Louis runs his hands along Harry's naked chest.  "I'm scared too, but this means the world to me.  You and me, we mean the world to me.  You mean the world to me.  Whatever you want, I'm yours.  No matter what."  Louis thinks he's never been more sappy or honest in his life.

"I can't see, Lou."

"Do you trust me?"

"God, yes.  I trust you with my life, basically.  Yes, I trust you."

"We can wait, then.  If you trust me, I trust you, and this is your decision to make."

"It's both of ours, Lou.  And god, I want to.  Please, Lou.  I trust you, I love you." 

That night Louis takes Harry slowly, watching for any signs of pain, and nearly cries when Harry tells him he’s all good, that he wants this so badly, that he loves Louis.  As much as the phrase makes Louis cringe, he realises it’s a bit more like making love than just having sex. But hey, he’s so in love with Harry, Louis thinks. Harry’s pretty lovely, Louis thinks.


End file.
